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A van squeals into the parking lot of the Olin Motel. A
sliding door scrapes open and muffled male voices are in the middle of what
sounds like a heated banter. The door scrapes and slams hard with a bang. Tires
rev again and the van peels out of the lot. The quick cadence of a pair of
cowboy boots trots up the metal stairs and down the hall towards room 8 (or 9).
A set of keys jangles at the door and a low male voice mutters "Son of a
bitch..."
Heather Ruby flinched when she heard the tires squeal. But
hearing the feet coming up the steps she frantically looks around the room, to
make sure everything is the way he likes it, before sitting primly on the foot
of the bed and turning her head towards the door with a smile that would tell
him how glad she was to see him back.
Kenneth Russell Hall slams the door open and saunters in
barely looking at Heather. He drops an oversized duffle bag near the entrance
which always contains the same things; a nondescript black turtleneck and cargo
pants, a black balaclava, a switchblade and an assault rifle. Ken kicks the
door shut behind him and walks towards the bathroom. He shakes shaggy but short
dark brown hair, yanks off his black leather jacket and tosses it at a chair,
revealing a black worn tank top and many upper body tattoos. He has a scar
across the bottom of his lip but an attractive chiseled face and lean muscular
build. As he steps into the bathroom he leaves the door open and
unceremoniously undoes his belt and unzips. He begins to piss loudly like
someone who hasn't had a chance in far too long. As it ebbs and ends he calls
out "Carter fucked up the job. We have to go back." There's a sound
of the toilet flushing and water running in the sink before Ken comes back out
looking upset "He's going to get all our asses busted."
Through the wall the TV blares from the room next door with
what sounds like a boxing match on. A vein in Ken's temple pulses and he walks
up to the wall and bangs the side of his fist on it "Turn it down mother
fucker!" After which he barks at Heather "Get me a Tylenol and a
beer. I hate this shithole island."
Heather nods. "O -- okay." she stutters. She
flinches as he pounds on the wall, but then he is barking at him and she stands
quickly going to the armoire mini-fridge and one of the beer bottles within.
Then she hurries into the bathroom for the tylenol. She beings it out and
fumbles to open it. Ken is NOT in a good mood, sounds like. With her hands
shaking, she spills the bottle. "Shit! I'm sorry!" she drops to her
knees to collect the rolling pills.
Ken laughs cruelly and says casually "Stupid
bitch." He stalks up to her as she scrambles with the pills with a grin
that shows he enjoys the power he has over her. He reaches down as he steps now
crotch to her face and grabs the back of her hair pulling her head back so
she's looking up his body "That's OK...you can make it up to me...."
Heather squeaks when he pulls at her hair. "Ken! Your
headache." as if that will make him let go of her. She also knows it could
be worse. "My hair!" she protests, but she is half heartedly working
on his jeans.
Ken wiggles his brows, giving her hair one last hard pull
before letting go to just resting his hand on her head "It's a stress
headache. You can help. Pass me 2 of those and the beer and then suck me. It's
the least you can do when I'm paying for your room.....come on Heather.....make
it all better..." His voice is soft at the end but still definitely
issuing a demand.
Heather swallows hard. "Ok, OK ...." she agrees,
knowing her voice is anxious but ... Ken never cared about voice tone. She sets
some of the pills on the desk and lets him get his own beer. Undoing his pants,
she takes his cock in one hand and moves her head close, sucking his dick into
her mouth. As she begins sucking, she wonders again if she can ever get away
... and doubts it.
Ken takes the pills and keeps holding the beer and drinking
as she starts, like he's at a show and she's the entertainment. Eventually he
puts the beer down on a nearby table and grabs her head again, pushing his cock
into her mouth as she sucks farther than could ever possibly be comfortable. He
let out a moan as he deep throats her, bending his knees a bit.
Heather knows what is coming when he grabs her hair and gags
at first, then chokes and fights the reflex. She grabs onto his hands, trying
to pull her head back a bit lest she choke and throw up.
Ken's face turns from pleasure to fury as she fights his
wishes. He shoves her head off him now "For fucks sakes Heather.
...fine...get on the bed and let me fuck you. You're no good with your mouth
these days." He steps out of his pants and underwear, pulls off his tank
top and socks and walks to the bedside table. The drawer scuttles open loudly
as all the furniture is old. He pulls out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube
and starts rolling on a condom within a minute and lubing it up, waiting for
her to join him and be ready to go. Romance and foreplay were not going to be
offered.
Heather winces and sighs. If she'd thrown up on him, he'd
have beat her again. As he gets the condoms, for which she is eternally
grateful he insists on using, she rolls onto the bed and lays on her back,
spreading her arms and legs as if she is making a snow angel. Then she forces a
smile and pulls up her knees, her legs open, hoping he doesn't catch that she
is NOT in the mood ... then again she lost 'the mood' the first time he had
raped her .. hours after they met. But Ken loved it ... and now, he wouldn't
let her go.
Ken gets on top of her and without any communication, shoves
into her, grunting as he starts to thrust hard. He starts talking to her as he
goes "Tell me that you want it.......Ask for it harder......beg for
more....." He says between grunts. He pins her wrists down and presses
into them with enough force to bruise, just a little, not enough to cause alarm
if anyone sees.
Heather half grunts and half cries out in pain as he so
roughly enters her. She knows all of his requests before he vocalizes them and,
lately it’s been hard to know someone was listening. A nice man next door to
them. More than usual, she feels the shame of what Ken does to her. "Oh
baby ,,,, give it to me .. please ... ha .. harder..." she begins to beg.
The only light for her, is Ken never seems to know or care what is in her
voice, so he probably can't hear the resentment, never mind the tears she
hides. Especially now. Because the man next door. Tom ... if they could hear
him, he could hear her.
Ken's skin starts to
sweat against Heather's. It might have been nice if he showered first. Course it
might have been nice if she wanted any of this and he was considerate of her
needs but he wasn't that type of guy and never would be. He slammed into her
now as he started to get closer to getting off and kept talking between grunts
and moans "That's right baby. I'm giving it to you just how you like
it......" His eyes were filled with lust and rage as he met hers and said
"Cum for me....."
Heather follows his motions a bit, but isn’t really into it.
After his day and no shower his isn’t the best of smells and he took her dry as
a desert, and ... the bloom is really off the relationship for her. But she
knows better than to say anything to him. She only breathes harder, moaning as
if this is the best sex she’s ever had. "God baby .. baby ... oh god ...
yes ... I'm .. I'm gonna cum!" she announces, bucking a little more under
him, more to encourage him than anything. Just get it over with, and a fake
orgasm works every time.
Ken takes the bait of her false enthusiasm and his face
screws up into almost pained expressions before it goes slack and he cries out
with one last hard thrust and collapses on top of her sweaty, smelly and heavy.
Heather sighs when he collapses at her and rests her hands
on his back, fake panting. Realizing he will probably expect to be
complimented, she moans. "Oh baby that was great." staring over his
shoulder at the ceiling.
Ken rolls off her and smiles for the first time, genuinely
"I'm sorry I was so fucking cranky. Just needed you to fuck it out of
me.....thanks...." He's always the nicest guy right after sex, even if the
sex was in no way nice. He kisses her lightly and gets up and goes to the
fridge for another beer "You want one?" He takes out two for himself
and hesitates until she replies.
Heather smiles back. If only he could be like this all the
time. Sweet and almost caring. But those five minutes didn't make up for the
rest of the time and never for when his mood was REALLY foul. "No, baby,
thanks?" she stretches in the way he likes, hoping to keep his good mood
up. "You’re not going to be late, are you?" she asks, casually,
knowing they had another run soon. Time alone for her. Maybe she would get a
coffee or something. Maybe she'd run into the neighbor guy.
Ken shakes his head "No more tonight. Shift change on
the guards. They're one short on the day shift at the warehouse we're raiding.
Gives us an edge.....getting up real mother fuckin early tomorrow and I'll be gone for a few days." He sets the alarm clock for 5:30 am, downs several more beer in rapid succession and
clicks on the TV as he cracks another and climbs back into bed "Fuck I'm
wasted already..." he mutters after a half hour starting to slur and nod
off. Within 45 minutes he's out cold.
Heather watches him drink, smiling like some kind of space
cadet. As he drinks and watches television, she grabs a shower and washes her
red hair. She watches him sleep and then, slipping into a long t-shirt, she
slips out of the room and looks over the parking lot a moment. She notes a
shaft of light coming from the window of Room 9 and .. like a moth to a flame
.. is drawn to it.
Heather approaches the window and realizes that she can see
inside. Tom is masturbating. She knows she shouldn't be looking, but she can't
help but look at his body ... naked on the sheets. Dressed, she knew Tom was
hot and, if things were different, she might have made a move ... but .. she
shoves those thoughts away, watching him through the break in the curtains.
Heather stares at the show, blinking when he cums, but still
staring at him and not moving from her space. She sees Tom turn and look at
her and for a moment, she is frozen. Then she realizes and squeaks, and hurries
back into her hotel room, careful not to wake Ken. Biting the corner of her
lip, she turns on the television to watch mindless television, but she isn't
thinking about what she's watching, but about what she's seen.
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